by Matt Shaw
Once my bath is done, and I feel both clean and relaxed, I travel from my working apartment back to my actual home - a place I never entertain the clients. Home life is home life, work life is work life and never the two shall meet. Greeted by my dog, Dahl, I make myself a nice hot cup of tea (one sugar) and settle down in front of the computer to catch up with friends on my preferred choice of social networking site whilst checking my work emails; sometimes there are a few, sometimes there are many. I do not remember the last time there were none. With my cup of tea resting on a coffee table next to me, I loaded up both the social networking site and my emails. Four notifications on the social site. Eighteen emails from the work site… It sounds a lot but I guarantee at least half will be from people trying to engage me in some kind of dirty conversation. I do offer this service but not for free as these clowns expect (and try for). They get deleted. They get blocked.
I loaded the first message titled ‘query’. A promising start that’s straight to the point.
Chapter Three
Standing at a petrol station I had visited so many times before, staring down at the concrete beneath my white trainers as the hose continued to pump unleaded into my car. As I had done so many times before, I’d chosen to pay at the pump. It’s easier. Less hassle. I don’t need to go in and see people. Don’t need to talk to them. Don’t need to invite others into my isolated little world.
My palms felt sweaty despite the cool breeze in the evening air. They’d been sweaty - on and off - for most of the day as I couldn’t help but think about tonight’s appointment. I didn’t make the booking immediately. I never meant to actually book anyone. I turned away from the sight - last night when I was browsing - on numerous occasions. And then, before I knew it, I had opened up a new email message within the lady’s page and was drafting a message; a request for a booking. I requested an hour. I requested it happened round her place, having seen there was an option for her to come to mine. After I hit send and the message went from outbox to sent - I felt so pathetic. A worthless man reduced to paying for some intimacy. I went to bed - slightly drunk on whiskey - telling myself it would be okay because, chances are, she wouldn’t even reply and yet - when I woke up for work this morning - there it was, sitting in my inbox; her reply.
Hi Jake,
Thank you for the message and the kind words!
Yes, I am free tomorrow evening at seven.
If you’d like to message me in the morning, to confirm, I will gladly send
my address.
Hugs and Kisses
~ D xxx
My heart beat so fast as I read the message back. It didn’t sink in the first time I read it, nor did it really sink in the second time. The third got it. I told myself that it was fine. She hadn’t booked me into the request time slot immediately. She’d asked me to confirm. Until I confirmed - there’d be no appointment. I could have just ignored the email. I could have just deleted it from my inbox and gone to work; drowned any thoughts of seeing this woman out with a day of data inputting. But I couldn’t ignore it. More to the point, I couldn’t ignore the resemblance to my Michelle. I went from the email back to the website where I gazed upon her pictures once more. Uncanny. Thinking back - I believe I made it through to ten in the morning before confirming the appointment. A quick email stating I would still very much like the appointment. Just as I did last night - I pressed send and tried to move on with my day. I kept telling myself she’d probably be too busy and would most likely fail to reply. Despite my negative thoughts, though, I couldn’t help but to keep checking my mobile phone for a response; just a quick press of the email button upon the touchscreen.
She replied at 3pm with her address.
By three-thirty I was standing in the bathroom, looking a nervous wreck, staring at my reflection wondering what the hell I was doing. I was hopeless talking to people at the best of times and yet here I was booking myself an appointment with a woman who’d be expecting me to not only talk to her but sleep with her too. By three-thirty-one I was moping sweat from my dark brow. One of my colleagues walked in soon after and disturbed me, forcing me to go back to my desk for fear of acting so suspiciously with my nerves that they’d start to wonder what I was up to.
The petrol pump click dead as I reached the limit I’d pre-paid for. I removed the nozzle from my car and put it back into the pump’s station. After putting the petrol cap back on, I jumped back into my car and slid the key into the ignition. A quick twist of my wrist turned the key and fired up the engine. I sat there, a moment, in two minds with which way to drive. To the left; her apartment. To the right; the comfort and solitude of my own home.
I turned left and continued down the road with my heart beating so hard I could feel it - uncomfortably - in my throat. I cast my mind back to the afternoon at work and how I came to the decision to go and see this woman.
I had been sitting at my desk staring at the screen with my mind elsewhere. I kept contemplating sending a quick email to the lady in order to cancel until I kept remembering how similar she was to Michelle. I needed to see how similar she was. In person - would she look more so? Or would she look completely different? I wasn’t sure which I’d have preferred. On the one hand it would be nice to be reminded of Michelle again but - on the other hand - I knew it wasn’t her and it wouldn’t bring her back. If anything it had the potential to make things even harder for me; might make me crave her back in my arms even more than I already do. The need to see her in the flesh won out in the end when I convinced myself that I didn’t need to sleep with the woman. I was paying for her time according to her profile. I could just go and have a chat; maybe even talk about Michelle. Tell her that’s why I booked her - because she reminded me of her and I just wanted to remember.
I turned another corner and realised I was on the woman’s road now. I could see the posh apartment block at the far end of the street. I drove up and parked as close as I could before killing the engine. I felt sick as the weight of what I was about to do started to weigh on my conscience.
Being stupid now. It’s not cheating. Michelle is dead. She isn’t coming back. Besides I’d already decided I wouldn’t be sleeping with this woman. Just a bit of company for the night. Well - an hour… A bit of company from someone who wouldn’t judge me. A bit of company with someone with whom I could just talk - get things off my chest. The fact she looked like Michelle was just a bonus. I started to feel myself calm down a little. Just a bit of company. Nothing more. Nothing less. It’ll be fine.
I looked at my reflection in the car’s rear-view mirror, “You’ll be fine,” I reassured myself. “A pleasant little hour with someone who doesn’t know you. Someone who doesn’t really care about you outside of the appointment. Just go in there, be sociable for the hour and leave again.”
I couldn’t help but feel it would do me some good to get out there and meet someone regardless of where the evening went. I didn’t want it to go anywhere on a physical front but it would be nice to at least talk to someone who didn’t know me or know any of my history. They’d just sit with me, pass the time and then I’d go home again back to the quiet I’d grown accustomed too. Hopefully get the craving for company out of my system, put there by those stupid late night adverts.
“Tomorrow you’ll be back to your old miserable self. You’ll wake up and you’ll wonder why you ever wanted to go out and meet someone in the first place. Simple. So. Just go in there tonight and have a chat. Enjoy yourself for tomorrow everything is back to normal.”
I continued to sit there, staring at my reflection, as my own words sunk in. Once they had, I nodded in agreement and climbed from the car. As I carefully closed the car door - with my eyes fixed upon the apartment where I’d been directed to - I couldn’t help but notice my hand was shaking like a leaf.
“Come on,” I muttered to myself, “it’s only an hour. You can do this…”
As I walked towards the communal door to the apartment block I patted my left hand pocket to
double check I had my wallet with me. I’d popped to the cashpoint earlier, on the way home from work, and had a sudden panic I’d left my wallet at home on at the kitchen side. That would have been a shame - having to cancel the appointment due to losing my wallet… Could always say that. She wouldn’t know it to be a lie.
“Stop being so pathetic,” I muttered again as I reached the door.
It was electronically locked. A large intercom was on the wall to the left of the entrance with numbers for all of the apartments within this block. A quick look and there it was…
The number twenty-six.
“Well - no turning back now…”
I pressed the buzzer and waited for her voice to answer. Damn hand shaking like a leaf. Get a grip, Jake. Get a grip.
“Hello?” a seductive voice came through the intercom’s speaker and caused my heart to skip a beat. Certainly can’t run away now. At least not without looking a bigger fool? But then - would that really matter? I won’t be seeing the woman again. “Come on up,” she said, “I’m on the second floor.” The intercom clicked static before going silent and the door, to my side, buzzed open. I reached across and pushed it open before stepping inside whilst my nerves still tried to get the better of me. Down the corridor I passed three doors. The first on the left, the second on the right and the last back on the left again. Opposite the last door was an open, carpeted staircase with a single hand-rail leading my way to the next floor. I took a hold of the rail and hurried up the stairs - not quite a run and yet not exactly a dawdle either. The next floor was a similar design to the last albeit with an extra apartment. I couldn’t help but wonder why there were only three apartments downstairs. Was there a janitors office down there, or something like that, or one bigger apartment? Can’t be the latter. Surely the bigger apartments are on the top floor? Jesus. Listen to me. Does it really matter.
Within seconds I was standing outside apartment number five. I was just staring at the door with my hand raised, ready to knock. Ready… But not actually knocking. I wondered whether she was standing on the other side of it waiting to open the door in order to greet me and begin the appointment. I looked back down towards the stairwell and wondered whether it was too late to make a run for it. Before I was able to make a decision either way the door opened and there she was - standing in front of me with a broad smile on her face. Her beauty - just as it was in the pictures if not better. Her similarity to Michelle… Striking.
“I thought you got lost,” she beamed. “You must be Jake. Please. Come in.” She stepped back, holding the door open wider. No turning back now then. I nervously stepped into the apartment. She closed the door behind me. I turned back to her. She looked amazing. Not just in how striking her resemblance to Michelle was but in what she was wearing; a sleek black dress which stopped just above the knees of her bare legs and hugged her figure beautifully - highlighting her perfect curves. She walked over to me and gave me a gentle hug with a tender kiss on the cheek. I felt myself blush. “Come on through to the living room,” she offered. She stepped past me and led the way through to her living room.
As you’d expect from the (nice) area, the apartment was decorated with nice furniture. Definitely cosy despite being minimalistic with the furniture it did have.
She walked to the centre of the room and turned to me, “Take a seat,” she said as she pointed towards the sofa against the far wall of the room. I walked over and took a seat as she had offered. “Can I get you a drink?” she asked.
“No.”
“Okay.”
“Thank you,” I quickly added, remembering my manners.
She smiled and approached before sitting next to me. She moved closer so that our legs were touching. She rested her hand on my leg and leaned closer to me.
“You look nervous,” she said.
“First time.” I felt my face getting hotter again. This was the first time I’d ever felt so nervous with a woman - or anyone for that matter. I might not be the most sociable but I don’t usually get this embarrassed. I think it’s because - within the next couple of minutes - we’re supposed to be naked and involved in some form of sexual activity. The whole process doesn’t feel natural to me. For some reason I feel out of my depth.
“With a woman?” she looked genuinely surprised by my admission. Or - at least - what she thought was my admission.
“A woman such as yourself,” I corrected her.
She laughed, “Relax, I’m teasing.” She gave me a playful hit on the arm. “Before we go any further - did you have the money?” she asked.
“Oh. Right. Yes. Sorry.” I flustered over my words as I fished for the money in my wallet. I realise now it probably would have been better to have it in an envelope, or something. I took the notes out and handed it to her. She thanked me.
“I’ll just go and put this away,” she said. She stood up and walked from the room. “Are you sure you don’t want a drink?” she called back.
“Maybe a glass of water?”
“We do have squash here if you prefer. Only the finest…”
“Water’s fine.”
I leaned forward and wiped my sweaty hands down the front of my jeans. So nervous. I hoped a glass of water would help. Even if it doesn’t rid me of my nerves, at the very least it will cure me of my dry throat. Danni walked back into the room carrying with her a glass of water. Even carrying a glass she looked amazing. She handed it over and took her seat next to me - once again her legs touching mine and her hand on my leg gently stroking it with her fingers. I looked at her fingers (immaculately manicured nails) and wondered whether this was a little flirt to get me in the mood for what would usually come next. I took a sip of the water, swigging it around in my mouth before swallowing it, and placed the cup on the floor next to my feet. As soon as the cup was out of the way, Danni ran her hand up my leg, to just underneath my crotch. She gave it a gentle squeeze and asked, “So what can I do for you then, Jake?”
I took my eyes from her hand and looked to her face. She’s raised an eyebrow. A naughty twinkle in her eyes. I guess this was the part where client and professional start to move things forward. Part of me wanted to. She looked so much like Michelle I wondered if it would be the same as if I were kissing her once more. It wasn’t her though; the other part of me - the louder part - kept telling me that. It wasn’t her. It couldn’t be her. Michelle was dead.
“You look so nervous. Relax. You’re in good hands,” she purred. Her hand moved onto my actual crotch before moving to my belt. “I know what will relax you,” she continued. She started to expertly undo it until I took a hold of her hand and pulled her away.
“Can we not do this?” I stuttered. She pulled away. Actually looked surprised too. Was I the first person to push her back? I apologised.
“I promise - whatever nerves you’re feeling - they’ll disappear if you just relax and go with the flow.” She smiled, “I don’t bite unless I am asked to.”
I stood up and walked to the other side of the room in an effort to remove myself from the temptation of being seduced by the beautiful woman struggling to do her job. I turned to her; felt the need to explain my strange actions.
“I’m sorry,” I said, “I’ve never been with a lady such as yourself.” I shifted on my feet, “Truth is - I only booked you because you reminded me of someone.”
She looked puzzled.
“You’re the spitting image of my wife.” I stuttered, “Well my old wife…”
“You’re not together anymore?” she asked.
I shook my head. “She passed away.” I hadn’t meant to bring Michelle into the conversation. I thought it would be inappropriate to do so and yet here I was - openly discussing her.
“I’m sorry to hear that,” said Danni.
“Thank you.”
“Was it a recent thing?” Danni asked before there was a chance of an uncomfortable silence.
I shook my head.
“You really do look like her. It’s uncanny.”
“Is that a good thing?”
I nodded, “Most beautiful girl I’d ever seen.”
Danni blushed as my words meant I thought highly of her too but it wasn’t just Michelle’s looks which made her beautiful though but also her personality.
I changed the subject, “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have come here.”
Danni stood up and walked towards the door, “I’ll get your money back seeing as you haven’t even been here ten minutes.”
I stopped her, “No. It’s fine. I took up your time. I’m good. Honest. Thank you though.”
Danni stopped in the doorway, “You don’t have to go if you don’t want to. We can just sit here and talk? I don’t have anything else planned for the evening and you did pay for an hour.”
I hesitated a moment as I looked to the direction of the front door and back to the sofa.
“Could even make you a cup of tea. Surely that has to be better than water?”
I thought for a moment and nodded.
“That would be nice.”
“Then I shall put the kettle on.”
Danni walked from the room. I went back over to the sofa and sat down on the edge of the seat - still not comfortable enough to sit back and make myself at home. Looking around the room it was obvious that Danni did not live here. A working apartment, at a guess. She must be on a fair amount of money. It’s a nice apartment in a nice part of town. I suppose there’s no shortage of men willing to pay for the services she provides. Looking at her - I can see why. By the time she walked back into the living room - with two cups of tea, one in each hand - she’d slipped into a white fluffy dressing gown.
